A Good Place

Chapter Six

After Luke had left me I finished my breakfast, then sought out the trousers I had been
wearing yesterday, before retrieving my phone from the pocket.

I had turned it off before my flight had left Brisbane yesterday and had deliberately left
it off all day, for the simple reason that while I was here I was wanting a little bit of alone
time, a little bit of time where I didn’t have to think about deadlines or contracts or
offers of any sort. I knew that once my presence here was known there would be a good chance
that offers and requests would start coming out of the woodwork, so I figured if I kept contact
with the outside world to an absolute minimum then I could at least keep some control of what
could loosely be called my personal life.

After switching the phone on it didn’t take long for the text and voice mail messages
to start coming through, so with a sigh I sat back down on the bed and started flicking through
them, starting with the text messages. Most of these were of no real consequence, apart from
one from my agent, Harry Preston, asking me to call him asap about the new Hollywood deal, and
another from my publicist, Shi-Anne Manning, saying that Harry was chasing me and asking if
everything was still okay for the writers’ group event next week. The one I liked best though
was that which I received from Luke, wanting to know what the fuck I was doing coming to town
and not letting him know?

I replied to the first two and told them I’d gone home for a few days, but would call
them on Monday, then started thinking about whether or not I should send Luke some kind of a
smart-arse answer, but in the end decided to simply leave it.

I then started checking my voice mail messages, which were largely just repeats of the text
messages, from the same people and asking the same things, although there was one there from
the new head of the Macquarie Harbour Writers’ Centre asking me to call her back to discuss
this week’s event.

After a quick rummage through my carry-all I found a pen and notepad and jotted the number
down, then punched the numbers into the phone and called her.

‘Anne Rummery speaking,’ a rather sharp sounding voice eventually said. I
guessed her to be in her fifties, and immediately conjured up a none-too-flattering image of a
librarian on the other end of the line, although fully aware that oftentimes the person you
visualise can turn out to be nothing at all like the actual person you later get to meet. I
wondered how far off the mark I would be when I would finally get to put a face to the name and
voice.

‘Oh, hello Anne, it’s Tony Scott here. You asked me to call about the event this
coming week,’ I said.

‘Oh, Ton-eeeee,’ she almost cooed in what was suddenly now a smooth and cultured
voice. ‘So good of you to call. Thank you!’

Okay, so maybe now the grey-haired librarian with the hair in a bun and steel rimmed glasses
was now sounding like a frustrated fifty-something, well-to-do housewife. Oh god, this game
could be fun!

‘We can’t wait to see you on Wednesday. The whole group is excited by your
coming visit. I’m sure we’ll have a full house.’

‘That sounds lovely,’ I replied.

‘Now, we were wondering if you might like to pop by the centre beforehand, you know,
just so that you were familiar with the set-up and so on. If there’s anything special
that you need you can let us know.’

‘Well, I have been there quite a few times before, back when I was studying, so I
actually have a pretty fair idea of where you’re located and what you have?’ I
said.

‘Oh, I didn’t know that,’ she responded.

Okay … she was now a frustrated blonde housewife, with no idea what she was doing.
This could get interesting!

From my recollections the writers’ group met in rooms adjacent to the town library, in the
old Council Chambers, I believe they were. For most of their events these rooms were
sufficient, however, for particularly large gatherings they used the conference facilities
which were contained in the library itself. If this one already had the house full
sign up and was booked out, then I suspected that we would be at the library on Wednesday.

Back when I attended the centre there was a retired English Professor from the University in
charge, a guy by the name of William Joyce. The students in those days were a mixed up bunch of
school kids (like me), University students with high ideals and fancy ideas, the occasional
person wanting to write a serious work about historical subjects, or frustrated housewives
looking to escape into a world of fantasy, even if only for those few hours a week. We were
certainly an eclectic group, with a range of talent to match, but I do have to say that I
learned quite a lot from every one of those people and I will always be thankful I had the
opportunity to be a part of it all.

‘Oh yes,’ I eventually added. ‘Your writers’ group provided a very
important part of my education. I’ll always be grateful for the assistance that I
received from old Bill Joyce, who was in charge back then. That’s the main reason
I’m so happy to come back.’

‘Well, we’re certainly happy that you are able to spare the time and come to see
us.’

‘Will we be in the rooms, or at the library,’ I asked.

‘Oh, most definitely the library,’ Anne replied.

‘Wonderful. If I get the chance beforehand I’ll drop in and say hello, but if I
don’t make it then I’ll see you Wednesday morning. It was a ten thirty start,
wasn’t it? I’ll make sure I get there early, just in case there’s anything
you need a hand with setting up,’

‘That would be wonderful. Thank you. I’ll see you then,’ she replied.

The term I was left with in my mind after we had disconnected was simply airhead. The woman
sounded like a complete ditz. I was already missing old Bill. I wondered whatever had happened
to him.

I switched off my phone and left it on the table beside the bed, then after dipping back
into my bag I pulled out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and pulled them on, before then picking
up the tray of breakfast things. I figured I would take them back up to the house before
setting off for the beach and a morning swim, then take a shower afterwards.

When I emerged from the guest house moments later, I found Tim and Guy outside also, sitting
beneath the shade of the jacaranda tree in the corner of the yard.

‘Good morning,’ Guy called out. ‘Good to see you’ve made it outside
finally.’

‘What do you mean? I’m up early today. Don’t you know what us writers are
like?’

‘Yeah … I’ve heard all about your type,’ he laughed.

I glanced at Tim and found that he was at least smiling this morning, so that was something
of a positive start to the day.

‘So what are your plans for the day?’ Guy asked me.

‘First up, the beach. Then a shower. Then I thought I’d take all you guys out to
lunch at the Boardwalk. How does that sound?’

‘You can count me in for all of it,’ Guy replied.

‘Yeah, and you can count me in for lunch,’ Tim added, ‘but I have to duck
into town for a few things this morning, so I’ll have to pass on the beach. I’m a
bit worried about you two and the shower though! Can I trust you both?’

‘I promise I’ll only look, not touch,’ I joked.

‘It wasn’t actually you I was worried about,’ Tim smirked, giving me a
wink as he did so, which only left Guy pouting. At least it told me that things between Tim and
me were okay, even if only for the time being.

‘Okay then, Tim,’ I said. ‘How about we meet you there? Twelve
o’clock all right with you?’

‘Sounds perfect,’ he said.

I left them there and headed inside with the breakfast tray, where I found both Matt and
Luke in the kitchen.

‘So you’ve finally surfaced,’ Matt said.

‘Yeah, well, I figured I had to face the world sooner or later,’ I replied,
while placing the tray on the bench beside the kitchen sink. ‘So, do either of you guys
want to come down to the beach with me and Guy?’

‘Actually, that sounds like a great idea,’ Luke said, ‘but I’m
afraid I have some work I need to catch up on.’

‘And I have to head into town as well, so I’ll have to take a rain-check on
that, mate,’ Matt added.

‘I’ll still be here all morning, though,’ Luke said, ‘and I
mentioned your lunch idea to Matt, so you and I can slip into town and meet him then if you
like.’

‘Okay, that sounds like a plan. Guy will come in with us too, as Tim also has to go to
town early, then Tim will meet us there as well,’ I replied.

‘That sounds good,’ Matt said.

‘Right then, that’s all organised. I’ll go and grab Guy and we’ll
head off. I guess we’ll see you when we get back.’

* * *

The path through the scrub from the house to the beach had been rather well worn when I had
last walked its length, and nothing appeared to have changed during the intervening years.

The sand track with grass growing to the edges was soft underfoot, while only a few branches
seemed to have grown across its course. Guy led the way, although after copping the first few
branches which had grown across the path I quickly learned to slow down and increase the gap
between us.

‘Does the beach get used any more than it used to?’ I asked him.

‘Yeah, a bit. There’s a few more people living out this side of town these days
and it didn’t take long for them to discover its hidden charms.’

‘That’s a bit of a shame.’

‘It’s okay though. Most of the time if we come through here there’s no one
about, it’s only on the odd occasion when we find someone else here, and even then
it’s usually not too many of them. As far as most of the world is concerned, the place is
still hidden.’

We walked along in silence for a few minutes, then I remembered the guy I had sat next to on
the plane yesterday.

‘Hey, this bloke I was sitting next to yesterday said something about the place being
full of hippie sheilas and poofs,’ I said. ‘What would that be all
about?’

‘You mean you don’t know?’ he asked, sounding somewhat surprised.

‘No, I don’t.’

‘Mate, you bloody-well should,’ he said, while coming to a stop just in front of
me. ‘It’s all your fault, you know.’

I stopped and looked at him with what must have been an odd expression, as he suddenly
started laughing.

‘How the hell do you work that out?’ I asked.

‘It was because of your first book … when folks figured out that our little
slice of paradise was the town referred to in your story, even with all the names having been
changed to protect the innocent, just like you promised all those years ago, more and more
people started coming here. They all wanted to check it out and maybe, just maybe, find their
own Dane or Christian or Blake or Lydia or Jules,’ he said, referring to a few of my main
characters from the novel.

‘Bull shit!’ I exclaimed.

‘No shit, mate. It’s true,’ he replied. ‘This town has made a
fortune from visitors since your little ditty was published, and if you don’t believe me
just ask Scott and Justin, or even Mrs Hamilton at the corner store; they’ve never been
happier!’

‘That’s fucking amazing,’ was all I could say.

‘Ahhh … but wait, there’s more!’ he added as we continued
walking.

‘There is?’

‘Yeah. The thing that bloke said about hippies and poofs … the place really is
full of them. All the old run down places around here have been snapped up by the alternative
lifestyle and sea change brigade. They’ve even bought up some of the old empty shops that
were in town. We’ve become the new Nimbin, although not quite as colourful …
yet!’

I knew of the place he was talking about, Nimbin. It was once a small run down rural village
which, in the early nineteen seventies, had been bought almost in its entirety by people
seeking to live an alternative lifestyle.

Within just a few years the once decrepit looking place was thriving, with all the buildings
in the town’s main street having been painted in bright colours, and even murals, while the
town embraced a bohemian kind of lifestyle. There was a downside, of course, which was a
culture of drugs and sex, but even that depended on who you would ask about it. Now the place
is a thriving example of just how a town can be reborn.

It would certainly be interesting to see how Thompsonville had changed, I thought, and said
as much to Guy.

‘I think you’ll be surprised,’ he said, giving me a wink as he did so.

A few minutes later we emerged from the scrub and were soon standing on the edge of the
beach, looking out over the small, secluded, horse-shoe shaped bay, which I knew so well. To my
right the beach stretched around the edge of the bay, until reaching a rocky outcrop which was
the start of the high, rocky headland, atop which the old lighthouse stood. To my left the
beach led around toward another headland, although this one was much lower, and entirely grass
covered.

‘What do you think?’ Guy asked me. ‘Has it changed any?’

‘Not at all,’ I replied. ‘It’s just as I remember it.’

Thankfully there was no-one else about and we had the place to ourselves, so we both slipped
off our flip-flops and then pulled our t-shirts over our heads, dropping them on the sand
beside our footwear.

I glanced at Guy and saw the mischievous grin on his face.

‘I’m game, if you’re game,’ he said. I simply laughed, then hooked
my thumbs in the waistband of my shorts and the boxers underneath them, and pulled them both
down in one motion.

This was something I had been dying to do again for ages, and was yet another thing that I
missed about this place; having the freedom to do things like this any time I felt like it.

As I had dropped my shorts Guy did the same thing, and before long we were both standing
there naked and looking each other up and down, grinning. We had all done this often enough
over the years, so none of us were bashful or embarrassed by our nakedness.

‘You look a bit pale there, mate. A bit of this sun will do you the world of good I
reckon,’ he said.

‘Yeah, it has been a while,’ I laughed. ‘For an old guy you’re still
looking pretty good though.’

‘Hey, who are you calling old? You’re no twink yourself these days!’ he
scolded.

In truth there was only about three years’ difference in our ages and in many ways we
weren’t that much different. We were both of similar, medium builds, with good
definition, though not too muscly. The main notable difference was that I was a few inches
taller than Guy, being a little over six feet, while he was just under that mark. The only
other difference, these days at least, was that while I had minimal body hair myself, and what
I did have didn’t show up all that prominently anyhow due to its being blonde, he had
started shaving or waxing; all over.

‘So what do you think of the new look?’ he asked, when he noticed me
staring.

‘Fuck, I hope you boyfriend doesn’t come down and see us like this,’ I
joked.

‘Don’t worry, your virtue is safe with me,’ he laughed.

‘That’s not exactly what I was meaning,’ I replied.

‘I know,’ Guy answered.

As we walked over the hot sand to the edge of the water memories of the last time I had been
here came flooding back. It was the day that I told Aaron that I was leaving, of that I was
certain. The day I told him I needed to go and chase my dreams.

I had pleaded with him to come with me, to share the adventure, and for most of that day and
night I thought he would do just that. We spent that last carefree day on this very same beach.
We made love that last night, in a sheltered and well grassed nook amongst the very trees I had
just now passed between. Later, we had climbed the headland and sat against the lighthouse,
watching the moon rise out across the ocean, while wrapped up in each other’s arms.

I thought we were in love. I thought he would come. But in the end he had refused.

When we finally parted, in the faint light of dawn, we went our separate ways. And our lives
changed forever.